


The Knife Edge

by Limpet666



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M, Mild Peril, Officer Zsasz, Oral Sex, fun and consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limpet666/pseuds/Limpet666
Summary: When the fresh-faced and talented Victor Zsasz gets transferred to the GCPD, events are set in motion that are to change Jim Gordon's life forever.





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> For Bee x

A wave of silence descending on the GCPD had never, in Jim’s experience, been a good thing.

But descend it did, and Jim’s stomach fell with it.

The lull of sound reached him about 10 seconds after it began, and the look on Harvey’s face told him he was not going to like what he saw when he turned around.

“Son of a--” Harvey’s voice was a growl, eyes fixed to the double-door entry of the building, and Jim’s stomach sank even lower until he was sure it was somewhere around basement level.

“Hi guys.” It was an all-too familiar cadence.

“Miss me?”

Turning to locate the source of the voice, Jim found Victor Zsasz standing bold as brass in the entrance way of the Gotham City Police Department. He was grinning with an expression that was half amused delight, and half the feral intensity that always seemed to lurk just beneath his surface.

The silence was tense and palpable, and no one in the precinct seemed to know what to do.

Jim was painfully aware that, whilst most of the eyes in the GCPD were on the assassin, a few, including Harvey’s, were on him.

He knew it was because they were waiting to see how he was going to react.

And he also knew it would be generous to suggest that even a quarter of them were watching out of concern for his well-being.

No, they wanted to watch Jim squirm. Watch him falter.

Watch him break. Again.

“Someone arrest him already!” Harvey’s bark was like a gunshot in the silence, and suddenly everyone was moving into action.

No less than 6 officers rushed forward to obey the acting Captain, but when Zsasz reached into his jacket every hand in the department when to their gun.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Zsasz held up his other hand placatingly, “Please. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Slowly, carefully, he pulled his hand from his jacket, and between his fingers there was a folded piece of paper.

“I’m here on behalf of Mayor Cobblepot, to act as a liaison between our departments,” he explained, pleasant in the same way a feral dog can be pleasant. Until the precise moment it’s not.

Jim felt light headed, like the walls were rushing in on him, and all he could hear was Zsasz’s voice. Saying words that made no sense. In a place he wasn’t supposed to be.

Victor Zsasz was supposed to be locked up Arkham Asylum.

“How the hell do you intend to work with us when you’re back behind bars, huh?” Harvey snapped, “You’re a murderer, Zsasz. You’ve killed good cops in cold blood.”

The atmosphere was icy, and Zsasz’s calm was all the worst for his feigned remorseful expression.

“I do regret my past actions,” he said with a sorrowful tone that convinced no one. “Even if I was not in my _right mind_ at the time.”

That his eyes finally found Jim to look at whilst he said that sent the blood rushing in Jim’s ears, his fingers white-knuckled on the grip of his gun.

It was like he could feel the agony of betrayal all over again; the shock, the pain, the blade twisting in his gut. And the cold, dimly sad expression of the man he thought he loved who had hurt him without hesitation.

Jim thought he might throw up.

“But,” Zsasz unfolded the paper to reveal the unmistakable letterhead of Arkham Asylum, and his apologetic expression could only last so long, “I think you’ll find I’ve been deemed completely rehabilitated.” His grin was nothing but predatory.

“Isn’t that great?”

Jim could hardly hear the uproar that erupted in the precinct, his ears suddenly filled with a stifling white noise. All around him people yelled and argued, a mob mentality only tempered by years of academy training, and Harvey trying his best to keep the peace.

Jim knew Harvey was looking at him despite it all, trying to catch his eye to make sure he was alright, to tell him he hadn’t known.

But Jim had eyes only for Victor, and his mind rushed and whirled as the events of the past came at him all at once, and he couldn’t help but remember how different things had been just 18 months ago.

The roar of the crowd was loud, but even over it all it was like Victor Zsasz was speaking right into ear as his dark eyes burned into his mind and his mouth moved to the form the words.

“This is going to be fun.” 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention when I first posted this, but Victor's appearance for this fic is inspired by a look Anthony Carrigan has in another role he played.
> 
> The look itself was what inspired this fic, so I left it in. I know it's not going to be a lot of people's jam, and I apologise if it's not, but this fic wouldn't have happened without it.

 

“You’re Jim Gordon, right?”

The voice was low but pleasant, and when Jim looked up from his --frankly horrendously boring-- paperwork, he found a man standing across from his desk with a hopeful smile.

He must have been new, because Jim had only a vague memory of seeing him before.

The man was maybe a couple of years younger than Jim, wearing a shirt and waistcoat rather than beat-cop blues, and he had his detective badge on a chain about his neck. His department issue sidearm was tucked at his hip, but he had another holster across his chest, revealing a pistol tucked by his ribs. It wasn’t unusual for a cop to have two guns, but usually one was hidden as a backup. Jim wasn’t sure whether he liked the confidence the man had to have to carry so openly.

But the dark eyes that watched him from under a flop of brown hair were nothing but friendly, so Jim tried not to judge.

“Uh...yeah, that’s me,” Jim spoke suddenly when he realised he’d been silent for too long, and he pushed his chair back to stand, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.

“And you’re um...uh…”

“Zsasz,” the man laughed as he took Jim’s hand, “Victor Zsasz.”

That rang a bell, and Jim was able to dredge up some distant memory of hearing that name, “Oh yeah, you transferred here a couple weeks ago, right?”

“That’s me,” Victor nodded, releasing Jim’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Zsasz. How are you finding it?” It was good to know who he was working with, so Jim didn’t mind spending a few minutes to check in.

“Busy,” Victor grinned, and Jim returned the expression knowingly.

“You can say that again. There’s always plenty of crime in Gotham.”

Jim wouldn’t mind there being a bit less, if he was honest.

“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Victor finally got to business, and it was only then that Jim realised the other man was holding a file. “I was hoping you’d have time to give me a hand?”

Jim took the file and opened it, eyebrows lifting, and his face must have twisted into some sort of grimace because Victor was quick to speak.

“I know, I know; it’s just a search and seizure,” his voice was nearly pleading, “But the higher ups still have me on probation and they won't let me go in without a superior officer.”

“Isn’t there anyone--” Almost any other detective there would count as ‘superior’ for what Victor needed.

“But you’re the best,” Victor said quickly, before grimacing like he hadn’t meant to say that. Jim was flattered, but he didn’t have time for ass-kissing.

“And,” Victor continued, slower, “I know your partner is still on holiday for another week.”

_Thanks Harvey._

“You’re my best chance to get the brass to see I can work with the team, and maybe then they’ll start letting me do some real work.”

“So you just want me there to make you look good?” Jim asked, and the way Victor’s eyes widened in fear was adorable.

“I didn’t-- look-- I just--” He was trying very hard to keep his composure, and Jim watched him squirm with great amusement.

“Please?” Victor finally finished, basically deflating as he held out his hands pleadingly.

Jim finally took mercy on the begging detective and handed back his file with a laugh.

“Yeah, okay, sure, anything to help a fellow detective.”

The relief on Victor’s face made him look about 12 years old for a moment, and it was extremely endearing.

“Thanks man, seriously,” he breathed, reaching over to clap Jim on the shoulder, “I owe you.”

“Sure, no problem.”

He could spare a couple hours for some good professional networking. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, apparently.

The operation went about as well as could be expected for Gotham City. Which this time meant Jim getting an up close and personal education on what happens when you drop in unannounced on a 300lb drug dealer.

Jim would be picking bits of drywall out of his clothes for weeks.

Upon entering what was supposed to be a vacant apartment, things had quickly devolved into a bit of a shootout that had both Jim and Victor taking cover behind an overturned table.

Harvey was never going to let him live this down.

“Well, at least it's not boring!” Three minutes in and Victor was grinning at him, way too cheerfully for Jim's liking.

“Yeah… that'd be a shame,” Jim’s voice was dry, leaning out to check on their assailant.

And nearly got himself shot for the trouble.

“This isn’t exactly how I thought this was going to go,” Victor admitted with a tense laugh, pushing back the piece of hair that fell stubbornly in his eyes. He shot Jim an apologetic look before raising his pistol and leaning up over their cover.

Then Jim got a look at why Victor Zsasz had transferred with such glowing references. His expression had changed to a fierce intensity as he sighted along the barrel, dark eyes eagle sharp as he took aim and fired. And all so quickly Jim barely had time to process it.

Victor was a pro. And a crack shot, if the angry bellow of pain from across the room was anything to go by.

Then the intensity was gone in an instant as Victor dropped back down behind the cover and grinned again at Jim.

“I think I got him.”

As if the roar hadn't made it clear.

Unfortunately, being shot hadn't lessened the man's ire, and he fired on them again, sending Jim and Victor ducking in close to make sure all their limbs were covered.

Once the shots had finally ceased, Victor chanced a look over their cover again with an almost petulant expression.

“We should have brought a bigger gun,” he murmured before suddenly ducking back down as the bullets started again, every impact sending a vibration through their cover.

Jim used the time to try and concoct a plan to get them out of the situation, running through every eventuality and escape route he could think of.

But as it turned out, they only had to wait for their opponent to run out of ammo.

There was a period of long silence where both of them took turns peering around the cover, but it soon became apparent that the assault had stopped. With a shared look of understanding they made the decision to move in.

Going their separate ways, they both remained on edge, expecting a burst of bullets that thankfully never came.

Instead, a hulking, bleeding, giant of a man launched himself at Victor the instant the young detective was close enough, and they both went crashing through a solid wooden table and onto the floor.

“Zsasz!” Jim ran forward automatically, ready to try and pull the criminal off.

“I got it!” That too cheerful voice again, followed by a bellow of agony as Victor punched the profusely bleeding bullet wound in his assailant’s shoulder. Within seconds Victor had twisted his legs up around the man’s thick neck and proceeded to render him unconscious in mere seconds.

Jim probably should have stopped him, but the man was big and heavy, and honestly he didn't feel up for any more fighting. Better he was unconscious for the time being.

If anyone asked, Jim would just say he couldn't get to them in time and Victor had done the right thing to protect himself.

But no one was going to ask. This was Gotham, after all.

“Phew!” Victor was dishevelled and dusty as he climbed to his feet, wiping the blood on his knuckles on the dealer’s shirt before looking to Jim.

“So, this was fun,” he grinned awkwardly, blowing the hair out of his eyes.

“Really?” Jim's voice was disbelieving, utterly baffled by the man before him. “You’re bleeding.”

Victor looked surprised at the news, checking his hands and chest for blood before raising his fingers to his cheek and finding the graze across his cheekbone.

It probably happened when he went through the table, and the bleeding had almost stopped already.

Looking at the fresh blood on his fingertips, Victor looked more perplexed than concerned.

“Come on,” Jim said by way of moving on, “let's cuff him and get out of here.”

He clapped Victor on the shoulder as he went past, letting him know there was no hard feelings.

They managed to drag the unconcious giant down the two flights of stairs, but by the time they had slid him into the back sear of their patrol car they were both breathing heavy.

“Next time, ground floor searches only,” Victor told him between pants, and Jim could only laugh in agreement as he slammed the door.

Once back at the precinct, the now awake dealer was thankfully taken off their hands, and Jim beckoned for Victor to follow him up to his desk.

“I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to drag you into such a mess,” Victor seemed truly apologetic as he followed obediently. The frantic energy from the shootout had now dissipated and Victor seemed like a different man; softer, and clearly more anxious about Jim’s opinion of him.

“Don't worry about it, Zsasz,” Jim said kindly, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a first aid kit. “You should clean your face, though.”

Victor took the proffered antiseptic wipe with thanks, opening it up and pressing it to the graze on his face before starting to wipe away the dried blood. Staring at Jim, he barely even winced at the sting.

“Let me buy you a beer, at least?” he asked, voice hopeful.

“Nah, you don't have--”

“Please?” Victor was insistent, worried almost, and Jim tried to hide his grimace. He didn't make friends easy, and he still didn't have a read on what he thought of this man.

Apart from him getting them into a shootout within two hours of meeting. Which had been interesting, and reckless.

And fun.

“…Unless you're busy?”

It was an easy out, but Jim weighed up his alternatives. He could stay there and do paperwork. Or he could go home, alone, to an empty apartment and wait for it to be time to sleep so he could wake up and come back tomorrow.

Maybe a beer would be good.

“Okay,” Jim acquiesced, and Victor's pleased smile was infectious, “One beer. Because you owe me.”

He pointed a finger in a mock threat, and Victor laughed.

“Yes, boss.”

 


	3. Chapter 2

Victor Zsasz was charming, no two ways about it. And not in the faux-charismatic bullheaded way Jim was accustomed to with a lot of cops.

Victor was smart, and quick-witted, and before Jim had even finished half his beer he was already enjoying himself.

And it was easy. Jim had a tendency to speak bluntly, and was an expert at making a situation awkward, intentionally and not. But Victor chatted like they were old friends, and took no offense to Jim’s derisive or disbelieving snorts, and continued a conversation as though Jim had said words instead of only grunting or nodding.

It crossed Jim’s mind that Victor could probably carry on a conversation in an empty room, but rather than find this interesting, Jim found it endearing. Which surprised him.

The only person he usually enjoyed drinking with was Harvey. He could only imagine his partner’s reaction when Jim told him where he'd been in his absence, and with whom. He doubted Harvey would find Victor quite as agreeable as Jim did; the crotchety detective never found enthusiasm to be a winning personality trait.

Neither did Jim, usually.

“So the little lady -- she had to be like a hundred years old -- reaches into her purse, right?” Victor was in the middle of telling Jim about one of his cases back in his first precinct. They were both on their second beer, and Victor rolled his between his palms as he spoke.

“Now I think, she's going to try and pay me or something,” Victor continued, pushing his hair back when it fell across his forehead. “So I'm already halfway through my ‘no thank you ma’am’ when -- and I swear I’m not making this up -- she pulls out this 500 Magnum and points it right at me.”

Jim whistled, “That's a big gun.”

“Yeah it's a big gun!” Victor laughed, “And she's got it pointed right at my stomach and tells me to get lost.”

“Get lost?”

“Well yeah, okay she might have been a bit more colourful, but that was the jist.” Zsasz was grinning, and he rested his chin on his hand. “I often wonder about that old bird. If she's still out there with her giant revolver, protecting the streets from purse-snatching villains.”

They both laughed then, and Jim shook his head.

“So that's why you transferred to Gotham?”

“Oh no! That's why I stayed where I was for two more years! With victims like that, half my job was already done.”

More laughter, and Jim couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself like this.

“But speaking of Gotham,” Victor started, expression sobering to a sincere smile. “I really do owe you for today,” and he lifted his bottle slightly in thanks before continuing.

“Guess I didn’t make the best impression, huh? Some new guy dragging you off for a super boring routine case, and then still managing to nearly get you shot?”

Jim shook his head, smiling over his bottle.

“Aah, I wouldn’t worry about it. Nearly getting shot is just a normal day in Gotham,” he admitted, and Victor laughed softly in disbelief. “I’m sure you’ll get the chance to pay me back soon enough.”

“You mean you’d work with me again?” Victor sounded surprised, but pleased, and Jim shrugged.

“Yeah, why not?” It was nice to have someone that was eager to work with him. Most of the other detectives didn’t appreciate his moral compass and tried whenever possible to stay out of Jim Gordon’s investigations. Lest they become involved with aggravating Gotham’s underworld.

“Besides,” he continued, taking another drink from his beer, “You’re a good shot, Zsasz. I definitely want you on my team.”

The way the other man beamed at the compliment was open and charming, but the cynical voice in the back of Jim’s head told him sooner or later Gotham would bleed the goodness out of Victor Zsasz.

Just like it did to everyone else.

 


	4. Chapter 3

Victor seemed to take Jim at his word, because for the next week he found every reason under the sun to drag Jim out on routine investigations. Or to jump in on Jim’s.

“Hey, I heard you got that warrant through for the dockside bust?” Victor’s voice came out of nowhere, ready and eager as always.

It was a big sting, and they were sending in a whole team, with Jim at the head. If it was successful it would put a considerable dent in a lot of crime in that area, and give a huge morale boost to the officers.

Talk of extra merits in a certain Lead Detective Gordon's file didn't interest Jim at all.

But given the scope of the investigation he wasn’t surprised in the slightest to almost literally run into Victor on his way to gear up. The man had a nose for the good cases.

“You heard right.” Jim agreed, stepping around the other man, but knowing he would follow.

“Any chance you need an extra man?” He sounded far too excited by the possibility of another gunfight.

“Don’t you have your own cases to take care of?” Jim didn’t mind, but he was curious.

It had been six days since their impromptu shootout, and Jim knew Victor had made a good impression with the Chief. But Victor still complained of getting nothing but grunt work and the occasional mugging. Apparently getting more ‘exciting’ cases was going to take time.

“Not currently.” Victor put his hands together like he was praying, “Please?”

Jim fixed him with a thoughtful look, making him wait many long seconds before nodding.

“Sure, Zsasz, grab your gear,” Jim breathed a laughed at the man’s delighted expression, watching him run off.

“Thanks Jim!”

Just a few minutes later they were all piling into vans; Jim, Victor, and a whole host of well-trained officers. They were all clad in riot vests and helmets, and double checking their weapons as the drivers up ahead sped to their destination.

They were squashed in like sardines which only added to the frenetic atmosphere, all of them anticipating the danger ahead of them. Jim used the time to brief Victor on the plan; who their marks were, what the routes were, what the fall back plan was. As he spoke, though, it became apparent Victor was already well educated on the operation.

“I… may have taken an interest,” he admitted when Jim asked him about it, grinning guiltily and pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You really don’t have enough work,” Jim told him, huffing a laugh and shaking his head when Victor just shrugged helplessly.

A few minutes later and they were pulling up just out of sight of the front of the warehouse. They would continue on foot from here.

As they all climbed out of the van, Jim touched the arm of one the officers to get her attention and hold her back. He needed a favour.

“Hey, Zsasz.”

Victor turned away from scanning the area to look at Jim questioningly.

“I got you something.” Jim was smirking as held out his hand and dropped something small and metal onto Victor’s palm.

It was a hair clip. And the only spare one Detective Ryder had just happened to be decorated with a small pink bow.

“Don’t want you to miss seeing something important,” Jim grinned, gesturing to the lock of hair that always seemed to fall down over Victor’s eyes, no matter how much he pushed it back. The other officers were tittering around them, and Victor may have been embarrassed if Jim hadn’t bumped him with his shoulder with a charming grin.

“Seriously though,” Jim leaned in, looking Victor in the eyes seriously, his voice soft, “better safe than sorry.”

The entire squad called him ‘Princess’ for about two months after their successful bust, but Victor took it with good spirits. Especially when he reminded them who had beaten all of their best scores in the shooting gallery in less than 7 days of being there. Jim couldn't have been more proud.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since AO3 doesn't have a queue feature, and since I keep forgetting to update, have two chapters today :)

By accompanying Jim Gordon on various jobs and tasks, Victor had made himself known throughout the precinct, and his upbeat demeanor seemed to be rubbing off on everyone he interacted with.

Well, almost everyone.

When Harvey returned he knew immediately that something was different. About the precinct and about Jim. The atmosphere was different, lighter, and Harvey, suspicious by nature, was on alert from the second he stepped in.

“Should I start getting worried, Jim?” Harvey asked, using that sarcastic tone he used when he was only half joking. “You’re not gonna trade me in for a younger model, right?”

Jim snorted at him, shaking his head because he was above rolling his eyes.

Harvey had been back for two days, and had taken an immediate dislike to Victor. Jim guessed it was because he was surprised how familiar Jim and Victor had become in such a short time. If he had to put a word on it, Jim would say Harvey was jealous.

Not that he would say that to his face.

Again.

“Really though Jim, what do you really know about this guy?” Harvey had a conspiratory tone, eyebrows lifted like he was making a valid point.

“He’s a good cop, Harvey. You’d know that if you gave him half a chance.” Jim wasn’t entertaining Harvey’s attempts to get him to question Victor. In the 9 days he’d known him he had proved himself nothing but trustworthy and capable in the field.

“Pfft,” Harvey dismissed the point. He thought Jim was being painfully naive. Harvey had been there long enough to know not to trust a pretty face. Even the most squeaky clean detectives could end up being as dirty as the scum they arrested. Harvey should know, he used to be one of them.

And the way Jim and Victor had developed this overnight friendship seemed awful suspicious to Harvey.

Jim told him he was being paranoid, and there was nothing suspicious about making friends.

“I just want you to be careful, partner.”

“You know me, Harvey. I’m always careful.” Jim flashed him a grin, and he could tell Harvey was resisting the urge to cuss at him.

He wished that Harvey would just trust him for once; nothing about Victor set any alarm bells going for Jim, and he trusted his gut.

Victor Zsasz was one of the good ones.

 

\---

 

“Bullock doesn’t like me.” Victor stated later that evening, looking at Jim with amusement.

Jim sighed, taking a long drink from his beer as he decided how to reply.

“Harvey doesn’t like anyone,” Jim grumbled, knowing it was a poor excuse. Fortunately Victor laughed and leaned over to clap a hand on Jim’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Jim. I get it.” Jim gave him a skeptical look, and Victor continued to smile.

“He thinks I’m... moving in on you, right?” He asked, and for almost 5 seconds Jim’s head ran in circles.

Moving in on him? Had Victor been hitting on him. How could he have missed that?

“I mean, he comes back and find out I’ve been dragging you out on all my cases? He’s got to think I’m trying to steal you away to be my partner?”

Oh!

“Work partner, right,” Jim said suddenly, abruptly nodding when he realised he had jumped the gun just a bit. “Right, yeah, that’s definitely it.”

Victor tilted his head with a curious look, beer halfway to his mouth, “What did you think I meant?” He asked, and Jim prayed his phone would beep or a masked gunman would come into the bar and give him a way to deflect the question.

“Nothing,” he lied, “I’ll talk to Harvey, get him to lay off.”

Victor gave him a knowing look, but allowed him to change the subject with a gracious nod, “He’s got nothing to worry about. I’m not looking for a permanent partner, anyway.”

“No?” Jim lifted his eyebrows.

“Nah,” Victor made a show of leaning back on his stool, expression magnanimous, “I was just trying to do you a favour. You know, keep you from getting bored.”

Jim laughed into his bottle, “Oh really?”

“Totally, it was a pain in the ass really,” he continued, heaving a dramatic sigh. “It’s not like I enjoyed hand-holding you through all those operations. Really, Harvey can have you, I’d appreciate the break. I’ve got my own work to do, you know? I can’t be--”

Jim was nodding enthusiastically, agreeing with everything Victor said with insistent ‘yeah?’s and ‘oh?’s until he suddenly delivered a swift kick to the other man’s shin under the table and effectively silenced him.

After one half-hearted attempt to return the kick, Victor laughed shortly, his tone edged in pain from his throbbing leg.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he admitted, still grinning despite it.

“You think?” Jim signaled to the bartender for two more beers, “If you’re really sorry, you can pay for these.

“Yes boss.”

They stayed for just one more after that, before finally calling it a night. But had there not been the looming need to sleep for work, Jim knew in his heart they both would have stayed longer.

“See you tomorrow, Jim?” Victor said as they stepped outside, pausing since they would go in opposite directions.

Jim nodded, “Bright and early,” he replied, voice comically gruff like he didn’t like the sound of being up early, and Victor laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“See you there.”

“Yeah, night Victor.”

 


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay a heads up seems about fair at this chapter. The writing for this story isn't the best, and it may not always flow smoothly. It was largely written out of order, and I'm doing my best to patch it together, but I'm too far out of the fandom to consider rewriting huge chunks so I'm afraid a lot is just going to be posted as-is.
> 
> I feel like the writing quality has been pretty evident since the first chapter though, so if you've got this far I wouldn't worry too much.

Harvey commented repeatedly on how often Jim and Victor went out for beers. So much so that Jim was starting to find it annoying.

“That’s the third time this week, Jim,” Harvey informed him after asking Jim what his plans were now they had finished for the day.

“You’ve never gone out with me this often! When was the last we went out for a beer?”

“Harvey I see enough of _you_ here,” Jim said with a patronising smile, sliding any sensitive files into his desk drawer and locking it before standing to pull his coat on.

It went unsaid, but they both knew Jim was bringing up that the reason he had to make time to see Victor _after_ work was because Harvey practically growled at the man every time he came near their desks.

“I’m just saying, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Jim gave him a long-suffering look.

“Harvey.” His tone was disapproving. It was beneath Harvey to try and ruin his and Victor’s friendship by inferring there was anything more.

Far from looking apologetic, Harvey just held up his hands, “Fine, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Goodbye Harvey,” Jim said firmly before leaving without a further word.

But much to his annoyance, Harvey’s words stayed with him.

Was there anything more?

They had only known each other for a month, but already, grabbing a drink with Victor was the highlight of Jim’s day.

After catching criminals of course. (Although on some days when work had been particularly hard, catching criminals didn’t feel so fun any more.)

Victor was easy to be with, unlike a lot of people Jim knew, and they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. He was charming and funny, and never seemed fazed whenever Jim spoke bluntly. In fact, it was the opposite; he seemed to appreciate Jim’s plain way of talking, and had said as such a couple times.

They had lost track of time on more than one occasion, had had ‘maybe just one more’ too many times to count, and Jim was a good enough detective to see that the disappointment was mutual when they finally had to call it a night.

But did that mean…?

Damnit Harvey.

Jim scowled to himself and shook his head to try and clear it. He wasn’t going to let Harvey ruin his evening, and made a conscious effort to put the intrusive thoughts to the back of his head.

He was going to enjoy his beer with Victor, and hope that Harvey would just overcome his petty dislike of the man and go back to being his friend again.

Sometime soon hopefully.

\---

  


Being witness to a purse-snatching was something that made almost every cop groan. Because if you _could,_ you had to give chase.

The scream that alerted them was followed almost immediately by Harvey’s curse, and then a rush of long legs and a black hoodie bolting past them, clutching a purse that definitely didn’t belong to them.

“Stop! Police!” Jim responded immediately, thrusting his barely eaten sandwich into Harvey’s chest before giving chase on autopilot.

It would have to be on lunchtime.

The thief was fast but Jim was no slouch, and despite his shorter stature he soon began to close the distance between them.

But even as he kept his eyes focused on the thief, he briefly considered that it would be so much easier if Victor was here; the taller man would have caught the perp with ease by now.

He would examine just _why_ his mind found any excuse to think of Victor at a later time.

The chase ended how these things always end, and Jim felt his knee scrape and his elbow connect with the road as he lunged and drove the thief to the ground

“GCPD, you’re under arrest,” Jim growled as he moved to put a knee across the struggling thief’s back and grappled with their- her hands.

“Get off me!”

With the handcuffs on and her rights read, the thief settled down somewhat, and only cursed quietly at Jim as he pulled her to her feet.

His knee was bleeding and his whole arm throbbed and he was glad to hand her off to Harvey when his partner finally caught up.

“Good job, Jim,” Harvey told him, giving him the once over, “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Jim grumbled, bending to pick up the purse, “Let’s get this back its owner and get this one back to the station.”

“Sure thing.” Harvey agreed, then shoved the thief ahead of them, “Come on, scumbag. You ruined our lunchtime, you know that?”

Luckily they were only a few minutes from the station, and once Harvey had unloaded the petty criminal into the holding cells, they both made their way up to their desk.

Harvey took a seat on Jim’s desk and watched his partner dig around for the first aid kit.

“Just our luck, huh? Can’t get a break for one lousy hour,” he grumbled, filling the silence as Jim rolled up his pant leg. There was a tear in the knee, and the skin underneath was bleeding and covered in grit.

“Hey partner, maybe you should get the Doc to look at that?”

“It’s fine, Harv,” Jim assured, nose wrinkling as he wiped an antiseptic wipe over the area, cleaning out the debris. It was a minor scrape really; he was more annoyed about his ruined pants.

It was the work of a few seconds to clean up and tape a gauze patch over it, and once he was done he rolled his pant leg back down with a sigh.

“Oh!” Harvey said suddenly, “I have one bit of good news.” He started rummaging in his pockets, and Jim was sceptical that anything good could come out of his partner’s well-worn coat.

But when he pulled out the remainder of Jim’s sandwich, the paper from Harvey’s burger folded over to keep it clean, Jim let out a barking laugh.

Of all the things for Harvey to save.

The broad grin on his partner’s face spoke volumes that he was relieved Jim was pleased, and he handed the parcel over.

“Can’t have you skipping out on lunch. The coffee here can only do so much.”

Unwrapping the paper, Jim was pleased to find the sandwich only a little squished, and definitely all the more edible after the exertion of the chase.

“What about yours?” Jim asked before taking a well-earned bite.

Harvey shrugged, “Rats got it,” he admitted like it was no big deal. “I wasn’t about to go shoving a burger straight into my pocket, the mess would never come out.”

Jim didn’t say anything more, even as he glanced down the burger wrapper that Harvey had obviously taken off his own food to protect Jim’s. He knew he didn’t always give his partner credit for the times he looked after him, and Jim wondered how many other times Harvey had sacrificed his own comfort for Jim’s without thought.

He would try to remember that the next time Harvey annoyed him.

  



	7. Chapter 6

It was the end of a long day, and Harvey was for once so engrossed in his paperwork that there was no early-warning growl to alert Jim of the approaching figure.

“Hey Jim, you up for a beer tonight?” Jim looked up from the last of his paperwork to see Victor grinning at him from across the desk. He was bright-eyed and basically buzzing with energy even after a full day of work, and his infectious smile was hard to say no to.

Not that he even considered saying no. He had been giving Victor a lot of thought over the last few days, and had been anticipating their next drinks. Harvey’s words about whether there was anything more going on between them had been playing on Jim’s mind, but the more time Jim spent with Victor, the clearer his head felt.

“Sure thing.” Jim agreed immediately, “Just let me finish up here and I'll be right out.”

Victor gave him a pleased nod and went back down the steps to grab his own things.

“Oh no… no no no I know that look.” Harvey-- who had been conveniently ignored during the whole exchange-- piped up, elbow on the desk as he stared at Jim sceptically.

“What look?” Jim scoffed, suddenly self-conscious that he might have had some vapid expression on his face. He stood abruptly from his chair, planning to get away from Harvey’s suspicious face as soon as possible.

“The ‘I'm gonna do something stupid’ look.” Harvey said knowingly, moving in closer like a lion ready to pounce, “I know you man, out with it.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Jim told him, making a show of grabbing his coat and leaving his desk.

“See you tomorrow Harvey.”

“Don't do it, Jim! Whatever stupid thing it is, I promise it'll end in tears!” Harvey called after him, drawing the attention of every officer in the vicinity. Had Jim not already been down the stairs he would have probably said some unpleasant things to his partner about minding his own damn business for once.

He was wrong anyway, Jim was pretty sure of that.

It wasn’t like Harvey had a good track record for relationships, so he wasn’t exactly a wealth of good advice. It was only the reminder that Harvey usually had his best interests at heart that truly stopped Jim snapping that back in his face.

But he did silently curse Harvey for sparking his anger, and he took a few deep breaths on his way out to try and calm his nerves.

Jim found Victor waiting patiently outside the GCPD’s main entrance, and upon seeing the man he suddenly found all the tension draining from his body, and Harvey’s words seemed entirely inconsequential.

He had something better to think about now.

“Hey… uh, look I’m pretty hungry,” Jim started after Victor had greeted him cheerfully, trying to keep his voice casual. “You maybe want to grab dinner with me?”

The surprised blink and considering expression the other man levied at him made Jim balk, heart thudding in his chest.

“I didn’t mean--”

“Sure, dinner sounds good.” The smile was back, wider than before, and Victor ran a hand back through his hair in a gesture that Jim was starting to learn meant he was feeling apprehensive. But he was smiling, and it looked genuine, so Jim allowed himself a breath of relief.

“Okay, great,” Jim felt like he had run a mile, but he made a decisive turn to lead Victor down the street, “There’s an Italian place a few minutes away, if that works? No mobs or anything.”

Victor laughed, “Italian sounds great.”

There was definitely something different between them as they walked, but it was soft and tentative, and it made Jim feel like a nervous teenage again.

A teenager with a pay check who was going to be paying for dinner of course.

The restaurant was small and intimate, and they were seated at a table for two with a knowing look from the waitress.

“You’ve been here before?” Victor asked as he peered at the menu briefly then set it down.

Jim nodded, “A couple times.”

“With dates?” Victor seemed to know just what to ask to make Jim squirm, and his grin was incorrigible.

“Not... always,” Jim coughed, looking around, “Harvey and I came here once.”

“You dated Harvey?” That got Jim’s attention, nose wrinkling briefly, and Victor’s laughter was bright and immediate.

“No! No, ugh, definitely not.” Jim shook his head vehemently, trying to get that image out of his head. Harvey was like a brother to him, an annoying, overstepping, frequently frustrating brother but still--

Victor reached across the table to touch his hand and every thought in Jim’s head abruptly blurred static.

“But this is a date, right?” Victor asked with an expectant expression, and Jim couldn’t shake his gaze from the man’s dark eyes. He was sure he was wearing some sort of stupid gormless expression.

“Uh… yeah, if… uh…” he took a breath and tried to compose himself, clearing his throat and cursing himself for his lack of composure. But Victor’s laughter across the table helped him back to reality.

“Yeah,” Jim said with more confidence after a moment, and Victor’s pleased smile was worth all the nervousness, “Yeah, it’s a date.”

“Good,” Victor nodded, squeezing Jim’s hand before pulling back and looking up when the waitress approached to take their orders.

The meal was pleasant and easy, and the food was good, and Victor made a point to comment as such.

“Why do you sound surprised?” Jim asked as their dessert dishes were taken away, “You think I don’t know good food?”

“Well I’ve only ever seen you eat street food before so…” Victor said without missing a beat, shrugging and giving Jim a pointed look that broke almost immediately into a laugh.

“Well next time I’ll just buy you a pretzel and a coffee, then,” Jim spoke into his cup, more gruffly than he intended, before finishing up the last of his drink like he couldn’t care less.

Victor’s foot on his leg under the table was unexpected but not unwelcome.

“Sorry,” Victor said, tone fond and placating, “This was really good.” He was smiling, and the warm expression was more than enough to melt Jim’s faux-annoyance. Especially since these things usually devolved into more banter. But Jim appreciated the sincerity, even if it wasn’t their usual speed.

When the check came, Jim waved off Victor’s offer to pay, and the smile he got in response was worth the cost of the meal a hundredfold.

“Do you live far?” Jim asked as they gathered their coats and bags, watching Victor wrap up in a scarf he hadn’t worn earlier. Then Jim checked outside and realised it was long past dark, and probably cold out.

Victor nodded as they headed out, “I’ll have to catch a cab,” he told Jim.

It _was_ cold outside, and Jim pulled his coat tighter around him. Then Victor was close at his side, giving him a curious look, and with only a moment’s hesitation Jim slid an arm around the other man’s waist. Victor looked pleased and slipped his arm across Jim’s back. They walked the couple of blocks to hail a cab in comfortable quiet, and Jim took the few minutes to really appreciate the other man’s warmth at his side. It was as easy as everything else had been with Victor.

As they drew into the light of the main street Victor held out a hand for a cab. Within seconds a car was pulling in, and Victor pulled away to face Jim with a smile.

“This was really nice Jim, thank you,” he said, pushing his fingers back through his hair.

“You’re welcome,” Jim replied, inwardly cringing at how abrupt that sounded. But he couldn’t find anything to add and all of a sudden he felt like a nervous and awkward teenager again, not sure what he was supposed to be doing.

“Um…” Victor nodded, lips pressed together in obvious uncertainty. “Okay. Well… um, see you at work.” He turned to leave, a smile on his face that was clearly disappointed, and Jim nearly cursed.

“Victor, wait,” he caught the other man’s arm and pulled him back. He paused for just a moment to give Victor time to pull away before leaning up slightly and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

Victor melted immediately into the kiss, a soft relieved sigh escaping him as he pressed in close, fingers curling gently in Jim’s coat.

Jim felt his skin tingle in relief and excitement as the kiss became sure and firm, breathing each other as though they had been waiting years to finally meet like this. Not just the few hours of dinner.

When they eventually drew apart, Jim found himself fixed with a stern look, the expression offset by the slight flush high on Victor’s cheeks.

“You know I thought you weren’t going to--”

“I know.” Jim grinned apologetically, then leaned in again, pressing another kiss to Victor’s mouth and relishing the pleased, confident noise the other man hummed.

Now he had started, he never wanted to stop kissing him.

But the impatient beep of the cab finally pulled them apart, and Victor breathed out a disappointed sigh.

“I have to go,” he said, looking into Jim’s eyes with a tight smile.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed, equally disappointed but stepping around Victor to open the cab door for him.

“See you at work?” Victor asked needlessly, pausing to get in.

“Of course,” Jim agreed, leaning in to give him one last fleeting kiss, before Victor got into the cab and he closed the door.

The cab started immediately and Jim watched it drive out of sight until he was left with only the pleasant sensation Victor's lips had left behind.

  



	8. Chapter 7

Jim got about half an hour of peace before Harvey started drilling him for information. And because Jim was less than enthusiastic about providing him with details, Harvey started filling in the blanks by himself.

“Well I _know_ you went out last night,” he started, ignoring Jim’s warning grumble to just drop it. “And you weren’t at the usual bar because no one saw you there.”

Jim tried to ignore his partner and focus on the paperwork before him.

“So you must have gone out somewhere. You hadn’t eaten yet-”

“Harvey.”

“-so you must have gone to dinner somewhere,” Harvey paused and stroked his beard thoughtfully. Sometimes Jim hated that Harvey was actually good at his job when he tried.

“Giovanni’s is close, and you told me you take dates there, so I bet that’s where you went,” Harvey was talking to himself now. “And it _must_ have gone well because you don’t seem especially grumpy this morning.”

Jim scowled at his partner, willing him to drop it, but instead Harvey’s expression broke into one of scandalised shock.

“Oh my God you did it didn't you? You slept with him?” For all his distrust of Victor, Harvey looked far too pleased by this imagined piece of gossip. Probably because he felt it was his brotherly duty to be pleased that his partner was getting sex.

Except he had jumped too far in his conclusion, and Jim was suddenly paying a lot more attention.

“What-- no! Harvey we didn't--”

“Hey Vic!” Harvey barked across the precinct, and Jim saw Victor visibly tense across the room. He hated being called ‘Vic’, and Harvey knew it.

“Come over here.” Harvey waved a hand when Victor turned to look at him.

“Harvey,” Jim growled in warning, scowling at his partner, and not trusting him an inch, “drop it.”

“Relax, I'm not gonna say anything.” Jim believed that about as far as he could throw the portly Irish detective.

“Detective Bullock,” Zsasz greeted suspiciously as he climbed the steps to their desks, looking to Jim questioningly.

“So a little bird told me you guys are a thing now.” Harvey pointed back and forth between them, leaning back in his chair like he was presiding over a court.

“Uh…” Victor looked baffled, then to Jim for guidance.

“Come on Harvey, what are you, 12?” Jim growled, fighting back a blush as he alternated between sending apologetic looks to Victor, and shooting glares at Harvey, willing him to just _leave it alone_.

“Hey I’m just trying to be a good partner here,” Harvey said, feigning innocence as he held a hand up to Victor, “How about you and me bury the hatchet?”

“Where?” Victor replied immediately, eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Jim couldn’t help smiling in amusement.

“Come on,” Harvey complained, reaching insistently with his hand, “If you guys are gonna be a thing we’ve at least gotta be civil, right?”

Victor shot Jim a questioning look, to which Jim could only shrug helplessly, side eyeing Harvey suspiciously. They all knew there was more to this, but maybe Harvey really was trying to be supportive.

Apparently Victor deemed it worth the risk, and slowly reached out to Harvey’s hand.

Whether he still thought that after Harvey used the handshake to jerk Victor down was anyone’s guess.

The slam of Victor’s hand down on the desk to catch himself as Harvey got up in his face was drowned out by Jim sharp bark.

“Harvey!”

Which Harvey completely ignored in favour of hissing into Victor’s face.

“If you hurt him in _any way_ , Zsasz, I swear by all that is holy, I will find you.”

“Harvey! Enough!” Jim was on his feet, but Harvey had already let Victor go and the man straightened like a bolt, stepping back with a shocked scowl.

Jim was at Victor’s side instantly, hand on his waist to check if he was okay.

“It’s fine, Jim,” Victor said with a not entirely convincing smile, “Nice to know you’ve got such good friends.”

“I’m sorry, come on, let’s go grab a coffee or something, yeah?” Jim said quickly, eager to get the two apart, and Victor nodded.

Jim pressed a hand to his back, “Okay, go ahead, I just need to grab something.”

Once Victor was down the stairs and out of earshot, Jim turned on Harvey, slamming both hands onto his desk.

“That was too far, Harvey,” he growled at him, and Harvey stared right back with an even expression.

“He’s a big boy, he can handle it,” he scoffed, “And besides, now he knows.”

“Knows what? He’s a _good_ man, Harv.” Jim straightened and grabbed his wallet from his jacket, scowling at his partner.

“And now he knows he better stay that way.”

Jim made a disgusted noise, “Enough, Harvey. You understand?”

Harvey breathed out a huff before waving a hand dismissively, “Sure thing, Jim. I won’t say another word about it.”

Now Jim just had to hope Victor would forgive him for letting it happen.

A coffee from one of the expensive shops down the road would hopefully do the trick.

“I should let Harvey threaten me more often if this is the reward I get,” Victor grinned from over a triple-shot extra sweet latte that had cost more than some of Jim’s lunches.

“So you forgive me?” Jim had black coffee; he couldn’t stomach any of the convoluted drinks listed up on the board.

“You didn’t do anything, Jim,” Victor reached across the table to lay his hand over Jim’s, and smiled when he turned his hand to curl his fingers around Victor’s hand.

“I should have known he was going to do something like that,” Jim countered, eyes on their hands, thumb running over Victor’s knuckles absently. He wouldn’t say it, but he was relieved Victor had made the first move to initiate affection. Part of Jim had been worried that Harvey may have made Victor rethink pursuing this.

“How?” Victor took a sip of his coffee, watching Jim fondly when the other man heaved a big sigh and looked at him again with a defeated smile.

“Because it’s Harvey,” he explained, then his face fell again. “Really, he was out of line.”

Victor let out a laugh and squeezed Jim’s hand fondly.

“Stop worrying,” he told him. “I’m a cop, Jim, I’ve _had_ far worse _from_ far worse. Harvey was just doing what he thought was right.”

“You’re defending him?” Jim asked in disbelief, and Victor pulled his hand away from Jim’s like he’d been burned, expression aghast.

“Oh no way! And I do plan to make him totally miserable,” he said with a cheerful grin, and Jim laughed. “I’m definitely going to glue his desk drawers closed. Probably steal his pens. Maybe even swap out his chair for one that wobbles.”

The relief in Jim’s chest must have shown on his face, because Victor’s expression brightened.

“And I’m definitely going to kiss you in front of him whenever I can because I know he’ll hate that.” He added, before finishing the rest of his coffee and swiftly standing to go, “Come on, let’s get back.”

Jim followed suit with a nod, getting to his feet, “Good idea.”

Then he realised what Victor had said before that.

“Hey, you’re joking about that last thing, right? Victor? Victor!”


	9. Chapter 8

Harvey was treated to nearly a full week of the cold shoulder until Jim finally forgave him and they settled back into their normal easy routine. There was an unspoken agreement to stay away from the subject of Victor, one that Harvey was good enough to abide by.

Especially since as time went on it was obvious that, despite Harvey’s initial misgivings, Jim hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

For the next few weeks Jim and Victor fell into a comfortable routine of dinner-dates. They took turns picking the restaurants, and whilst Jim had only a few staples to choose from, Victor expanded his palette with sushi, caribbean, and other places Jim would never have considered without him.

And it was _wonderful_. And Jim relished the small affectionate gestures during dinner, and the few kisses they could steal before one or both of them had to catch a cab home.

And then one afternoon Victor had a different suggestion as leaned against Jim’s desk with an attempt at nochalance, something he wouldn’t have done had Harvey not been absent.

“Why don't we do dinner at mine tonight?” Victor offered abruptly with a nervous but expression, fiddling with the chain of his badge. “I'll cook.”

Jim felt his stomach clench in surprise, heart racing in a way that was not at all unpleasant. He hurried to break the silence lest Victor worry.

“You can cook?” Jim asked with mock surprise, immediately drawing Victor from his nervous habits in favour of looking insulted.

“Of course I can cook!” he protested even as Jim grinned teasingly, before adding, “I mean, how hard can it be?”

Jim could only laugh at that, glancing around before taking a hold of Victor’s tie and pulling him down to press an appeasing, albeit brief, kiss to his mouth.

“Sure, your place sounds good,” he agreed readily, drinking in Victor’s relieved smile with pleasure. Had he thought Jim would ever say no?

“Okay, good, around 7?” Victor asked, hands smoothing out wrinkles on Jim’s shirt in a nervous motion, and Jim reached up to hold his wrist gently.

“That’s fine,” Jim nodded with a reassuring smile. That would give him time to go home and change first.

“Okay,” Victor nodded again to himself before darting a look around the hall. It was mostly empty, and no one was paying them any attention anyway, but even still Jim was pleased when Victor darted in to steal another quick kiss.

“See you at 7.”

  


\---

  


Jim found his way to Victor's place with ease. It was a nice enough neighbourhood, and the stoop and front door were clean. Not that he'd expected anything different.

He hadn't known what to expect if he was honest.

He found the right button and buzzed the alarm.

Seconds later Victor's voice came through the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hey, its me,” Jim said briefly. He hated talking on these things, it felt too much like door duty.

“Oh! Hey, come on up.”

After being buzzed in the front door, Jim climbed the six sets of stairs two at a time, eager to dispel the awkwardness the door buzzer had put into him.

The door to Victor's apartment was already cracked open, but Jim knocked anyway before slowly pushing it open

“Victor?” Jim wasn't just going to walk right in, but fortunately moments later Victor appeared.

“Jim!” he looked pleased to see him and came over immediately to hold the door, wiping his damp hands on his pants, “Come in.”

Jim slowly stepped into the apartment with an interested smile, looking around curiously.

It was a nice enough place; long windows along one wall that looked out onto the park opposite, comfortable-looking furniture, and plenty of lighting.

And knives.

A lot of knives.

Mostly in frames on the walls, but Jim spotted a couple of display cases with any number propped up inside, glinting in the light. It was certainly an interesting decoration choice.

He was going to have to ask about that later, but for now--

“I brought wine,” he said with a straight face, lifting his bag to indicate, and he watched as Victor's smile flickered momentarily.

“Oh that's... uh… great!” His feigned excitement was adorable, but Jim didn't let him suffer too long.

“I'm kidding, I brought beer.”

Victor visibly relaxed with relief and then let out a laugh as Jim pulled the 6-pack of bottles from his bag. He shut the door before going to take the beers from Jim, leaning in for a kiss that Jim happily reciprocated.

“You had me worried. I thought I’d made a huge mistake inviting you here,” Victor laughed as he stepped away.

“Because I might have brought wine?” Jim toed off his shoes with the others lying near the door before stepping further in.

“I can't date a man that drinks wine!” Victor called from the kitchen, before quickly returning, two bottles in hand.

“Why not?” Jim laughed disbelievingly, gladly taking one of the bottles before following Victor into the living area.

“Well, first it’s wine,” Victor started, “Then it’s posh restaurants. Then the next thing I know you’re dragging me for nights out at the _opera_ and I become some sequestered house-husband living out the best years of my life in some dusty mansion.” Victor uncapped his beer and fell down onto the couch with a dramatic arm wave.

Jim couldn’t help but laugh at Victor’s imaginings, sitting down against the arm of the couch and angling his body towards him.

“That’s ridiculous,” he dismissed, uncapping his own beer and taking a drink.

“Oh yeah?” Victor said like he didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, there’s no way I could afford to marry you,” Jim said as he looked at Victor, nodding with the utmost seriousness, “Not with all the opera we’d be going to.”

The way Victor’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the very idea made Jim break his façade with a snort, laughing into his bottle before he took another sip then put it down on the coffee table before them.

Jim knew they were both fighting to work past the slight awkwardness the more intimate setting invoked. They had never been alone like this before, and whilst Jim was pleased they were getting some time together in private, it was still a change. But he didn’t want to waste any opportunity they had, so with a decisive movement he turned to face Victor more, pulling one leg up onto the couch.

He reached out then, trying to make it as natural as possible as he took a hold of Victor’s arm to pull him close. Victor came without argument, setting his own bottle aside before sliding forward to kneel between Jim’s legs with a smile that was tinged with relief.

“When’s dinner?” Jim asked quietly, running his fingers back through Victor’s hair and enjoying the soft pleased noise he hummed.

“Not for a little while yet.”

“Good.”

The soft sigh Victor breathed when Jim kissed him settled both their nerves.

They kissed with easy affection for a long while, the silence broken by the soft ambient music that lilted through the apartment from a player in the corner. Jim’s hands soon found their way up under the hem of Victor’s shirt to rest against the warm skin of his back, and Victor had his braced on Jim’s shoulders for leverage.

Whenever they broke for air, Jim would press soft kisses to Victor’s jaw and cheek, glad for the chance to touch and kiss him purely just for the sake of it. In public, their affections, whilst nice, were short-lived by necessity. But now they had all evening.

Eventually Victor had to pull away and out of the awkward position he had been kneeling in to lean towards Jim. Instead he turned around and leaned back against Jim’s chest with a contented sigh, head falling back on his shoulder as Jim’s arms wrapped over him.

“This is nice,” Victor hummed, smiling and lifting his chin when Jim pressed another kiss to his hairline with an agreeing noise.

They stayed like that for a long while, talking softly about easy topics, until finally something alerted Jim’s senses.

“Can I smell burning?”

There was a pause, and then Victor was up and over the back of the couch with a curse before Jim could ask what was wrong. Instead he was left blinking at the space Victor had just occupied like the man had vanished into thin air.

Moments later there was another curse from the kitchen, and the burning smell got stronger, as Jim sat up straight to try and see through the doorway.

“Vict--”

His question was cut off by the abrupt screeching of the fire alarm and he was on his feet in a flash to go help.

“What happened?” Jim tried to yell, but most of it was lost in a cough the moment he stepped into the kitchen. There was smoke coming from a dish Victor had set on the top of the oven and was currently trying to cover with a lid. Jim grabbed a cloth from the counter and reached out to push open a window before he set about trying to calm down the fire alarm lest it alerted the whole apartment complex.

Victor kept his back to Jim, as he smothered whatever was left of the charred food in the dish, and after a very long half minute the alarm finally ceased its screeching.

There was a long awkwardness in the ensuing silence that sounded so loud in their ears, before Jim finally crossed to examine the culprit. He put a gentle hand on Victor’s back as he leaned over.

“What was it?” he asked curiously, looking at the dish, then to Victor.

Who was _blushing_.

Jim’s eyebrows shot up when he saw, and immediately his face split into an amused grin, and Victor groaned and turned away from him in embarrassment when he saw. Jim was quick to wrap his arms around the other man before he could escape, and then they were both laughing.

“Come on, what was it?” Jim asked again, leaning his chin on Victor’s shoulder when the taller man leaned back against him petulantly.

“Pasta bake,” He mumbled, “It didn’t look that difficult. Guess I should have set a timer.”

Jim breathed a laugh into Victor’s shoulder before pressing a kiss to his neck and loosening his hold around him. Immediately Victor turned and wrapped his arms over Jim’s shoulders.

“Sorry… guess that’s put a bit of a downer on the evening,” he was smiling, but he was obviously troubled and embarrassed by the events.

Jim just shook his head as he rested his hands on Victor’s hips.

“Nah,” he said with utmost certainty, “You’ve got a takeout menu, right?” Victor nodded, “Let’s order in.”

The way Victor’s face lit up in relief was, Jim thought, completely worth one burned pasta bake and the acrid smoke that had come with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will follow on directly from this. Had to split it in half because it was WAY too long.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the previous chapter. Rating has gone up.

Their food arrived within 30 minutes, and both of them decided to forego the dining table in favour of settling back onto the couch. Their food was laid out on the coffee table, and Victor had switched the TV on to some kind of action adventure movie that was more for background noise than actually watching.

Especially since Victor seemed more than happy to regale Jim with more stories from his previous precinct.

“And it took _four_ hours for her to pry it open again,” Victor finished, gestured with his chopsticks, and Jim was laughing at the dramatic retelling.

“Wait,” Jim paused, setting his empty carton of food down on the table and picking up his beer, “how did you get a _blowtorch_ into the women’s locker room in the first place?”

“Oh that was already there,” Victor waved him off flippantly, but almost immediately his face split into a grin, “But _that’s_ a good story.” Jim got the implication he meant for another time though.

Victor finished his own food moments later, setting the empty box on the table and grabbing his beer before reclining back into the sofa with a pleased noise. He dragged a hand back through his hair then turned to look at Jim with a smile.

“To be honest, this was probably better than pasta bake,” he admitted, and Jim laughed, shaking his head and nudging Victor’s foot with his own.

“I’m sure it would have been great,” he insisted, and Victor snorted. Jim closed the distance between them on the couch, leaning an arm on the back.

“How about next time we make something together?” Jim offered, and Victor’s eyebrows lifted with pleased smile. Which quickly turned to a cheeky grin.

“ _You_ can cook?” he asked, leaning away a little when Jim looked as though to grab him.

“Well,” Jim started, before returning the grin and mirroring Victor’s words from earlier in the day, “How hard can it be?”

Victor’s laugh was bright and delighted, and he leaned in without hesitation to press an appreciative kiss to Jim’s mouth.

Jim returned the kiss with a pleased noise, hand sliding up Victor’s side and around his ribs, slowly pulling him closer when he showed no signs of pulling back.

The kiss turned from affectionate to heated when neither was inclined to break it, and after a moment Victor was pulling Jim towards him as he leaned back into the arm of the couch. They parted for a moment of readjusting, wherein Jim came to settle between Victor’s legs and Victor’s arms looped up around his shoulders. Jim braced his arm on the seat as he leaned down to kiss him again, both of them still revelling in the freedom to be so affectionate, and the knowledge that they both seemed to crave it equally.

Things easily could have escalated then and there, but before they had a chance, Victor started vibrating with laughter into the kiss, and Jim was quick to follow. They parted just a few inches, both smiling with amusement.

“This is really nice,” Victor started, combing his fingers through Jim’s hair.

“But we’ve just eaten,” Jim finished with full understanding and another laugh, whilst Victor nodded.

“Honestly, I think I’d rather just have a nap more than anything else,” he admitted, and Jim agreed. He tried to sit back, but Victor held on and instead tugged his shoulders down until Jim obliged to rest his weight on him.

“For now, at least,” Victor added, fingers continuing to comb through Jim’s hair where it was rested against his shoulder.

“Just for now,” Jim agreed, pleasantly lulled by the good food and the warm body below him.

They didn’t sleep, but they did remain there in comfortable silence as Victor absently petted Jim’s hair and they watched the last of the movie play out.

Eventually the soporific effects of food began to wear off, and whilst Jim could have happily stayed there like that all night, he suddenly remembered something he had meant to bring up.

Lifting his head he turned to look at Victor, making sure the other man was alert before opening his mouth.

“So, I’ve got to ask--” he began, and Victor’s eyebrows lifted curiously before Jim finished “-- _what’s with all the knives?”_

Instantly Victor’s face lit up with delight, and Jim couldn’t help laughing at the sudden excitement in his frame.

“Oh you noticed them?” Victor asked, slowly sitting up as they de-tangled themselves, and Jim got the feeling he about to get an in-depth show and tell.

Not that he minded in the slightest, the sheer joy in Victor’s eyes would be worth every moment.

“Kinda hard to miss,” Jim stated with a laugh, looking around at the many displays.

“It’s my hobby,” Victor said quickly with a grin that was all pride, “I collect abandoned knives. I found all of these!”

“Found?” Jim asked sceptically, and Victor nodded, getting to his feet and beckoning Jim to follow him to a frame on the wall.

“I found this one on my first day out on the beat,” he pointed to a beaten up switchblade resting on display pins in the frame. “I chased a perp for 20 minutes before he fell in the river and my partner dragged him out downstream. I saw this in the grass as I was reading him his rights.”

His bright smile was infectious, and Jim was smiling right back, his body flooding with warmth at seeing Victor so excited and proud.

Before he knew it, Victor was pointing to different knives and telling him their story.

“I found that machete in the London sewer system. Had to get it shipped back in the mail because they wouldn’t let me take it in my hand luggage.”

“That one was in a tree in Quebec. Took me 4 hours to get it out.”

“I actually fell on that one. Not badly, but it cut my leg open and I had to get all sorts of shots.”

Victor was animated and full of excited energy, and looked often to Jim to get his running commentary.

Finally Jim had to ask.

“Have you had any of these checked to make sure they’re not… you know… part of an ongoing investigation?”

The look Victor gave him made Jim step back with his hands raised in surrender, “I’m only asking!” he laughed.

“Of course I have,” Victor huffed, pushing a hand back through his hair, before he added with a grumble, “I’d have at least 30 more if I didn’t.”

He sounded… _disappointed_ that he’d had to hand his acquired weapons over because they were part of a case.

Jim thought it was adorable, and went forward to put his hand on Victor’s hip, turning him to face him. He was grinning up at the taller man, and Victor looked at him suspiciously.

“What?”

Jim shook his head, “Nothing… it’s just… you’re really cute when you’re talking about lethal weapons.”

The blush that rose to Victor’s cheeks was everything Jim wanted, including the petulant huff, and before Victor could decide to argue Jim leaned up to kiss him firmly, smiling as he did.

Victor feigned disinterest in the kiss, but as Jim slid his hands over his flanks and up over his back he was persuaded to respond, the tension in his shoulders quickly melting under the affectionate touches.

“Cute, really?” Victor asked, barely pulling back from the kiss, and Jim made an affirmative noise against his mouth as he lifted his hands to the buttons of Victor’s shirt.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed as he started undoing the fastenings, “totally cute. Adorable.”

Victor’s embarrassed laughed was music, and the heated kiss he pressed to Jim’s lips was more than welcomed as he pulled him towards a door Jim guessed was Victor’s bedroom. A destination Jim had no problem in following him into.

The room itself was sparsely decorated, completely functional with little personalisation except one frame right above the bed.

“Oh! That’s my very first knife!”

Victor had pulled back from the kiss the second Jim’s eyes had landed on the frame, and the heated atmosphere had all but dissipated instantly.

And despite his sudden disappointment, Jim couldn’t help but laugh. Victor’s enthusiasm for his hobby _was_ delightful.

“Fresh out of the academy,” Victor explained as he extricated himself from Jim’s hold like he couldn't feel the other man trying to stop him, and stepped up onto the bed to look at the knife.

“First day in the precinct, and I get sent out to handle a domestic abuse situation.” Victor turned to look at Jim, who remained at the foot of the bed watching him fondly.

“It was a standard arrest, but on the way out I saw this one sat in the grass at the edge of the curb,” his eyes were bright and excited.

“I thought it might have helped in the case, but after all the tests were run there was no evidence, so I kept it as a memento of my first arrest.”

He crossed back to Jim when he held out a hand, stepping down off the bed and into Jim’s arms.

“It’s boring, right? You’re bored?” Victor asked, expression turning uncertain, and Jim was quick to reassuring him.

“It’s good,” he insisted, fingers ever so slowly undoing the remaining buttons to Victor’s shirt, “It’s cute.”

Victor feigned offence again, “Cute--?” He was cut short by Jim leaning up to press their mouths together, and Victor offence was short lived as he wrapped his arms around Jim’s shoulders.

“Mmhmm,” Jim agreed against Victor’s mouth, pulling back for breath, and using the moment to slide the man’s shirt off his shoulder.

“Totally interesting,” he insisted, hands on Victor’s ribs as the other man fought to get his arms out of the sleeves, before leaning in to kiss him to distraction.

“I definitely want to hear more.” Another kiss, slow and deep, and Victor’s hands were finally back on him.

“But _later.”_ The soft moan Victor responded with told Jim he was more than happy with that arrangement, and the heated kiss that followed told him that Victor agreed there was better things they could be doing with their mouths right then.

Jim felt the air against his chest before he even realised Victor was undoing his shirt, and then the garment was pushed halfway down his arms with a telling impatience.

With his shirt on the floor, Jim pressed forward, pushing Victor down onto the bed and following him as he moved back over the surface.

Jim moved without hesitation to straddled Victor’s hips when the taller man leaned back on his hands, and he leaned down to press another kiss to his smiling mouth. Jim’s hands came up to gently cup Victor’s face, and he felt firm fingers curl over his wrist, the pad of Victor’s thumb stroking over his knuckles.

The kiss broke when Victor lay back into the blankets, but Jim caught his hand before he could lower it. Instead he brought Victor’s wrist to his mouth, pressing a breathy kiss to the soft skin over his pulse, and smiling at the pleasant shiver that went through the man below him.

His mouth traced a sensuous path of kisses up over the smooth skin of Victor’s forearm, the last pressing into the crook of his elbow before he finally moved away. Instead he laced his fingers with Victor’s and pressed his hand down against the blankets as he moved to kiss him against, a pleased hum lost between their mouths.

The fingers of Victor’s free hand curled against the back of Jim’s neck, scratching against his skin before sliding down over his chest and then along his flank. Jim followed the path of his hand in his mind, groaning low as a firm palm rested in the small of his back, before Victor began shifting his hips, pressing up between Jim’s legs with clear purpose.

It was the only invitation Jim needed to let go of Victor’s hand and instead hooked his fingers into the belt below him, starting to unfasten the other man’s pants. The way Victor pulled back from his mouth with an impatient gasp was music to his ears.

Jim had barely gotten Victor’s belt undone before his world abruptly flipped, and he found himself on his back on the bed with Victor pressed to him from hips to shoulder.

“Vict--?” It was then that Jim noticed the other man was reaching out to the bedside table, but before he could say more, Victor was back and kissing him again.

Between them they got Victor’s pants off, and Jim’s quickly followed courtesy of Victor sitting back on his heels and yanking them off impatiently, pulling laughs from the both of them.

“Next time, pants off before we get on the bed,” Victor noted as he leaned over Jim again, humming as their hips pressed together again, only the thin fabric of their boxers between them.

“Next time?” Jim asked, grinning through heavy breaths as Victor kept up a slow, steady rhythm between his legs.

“You don’t think there’ll be a next time, Jim?” Victor asked with a predatory grin, voice toned so low it was basically a purr, and Jim shivered at the sound.

Still, it didn’t stop him retorting with a smirk, “Depends on how well you do this time.”

Victor ducked his head to press a kiss to Jim’s shoulder with a breathy laugh, “No pressure then.”

Jim shifted with a pleased hum as Victor began pressing kisses to his neck and collar, aware of a warm hand sliding down his side to his hip.

“I believe in you,” Jim reassured him, the grin clear in his voice until Victor slid his hand below the waistband of his boxers and palmed his erection. Then it was all that Jim could do to remember how to breath, his fingertips pressing into Victor’s shoulder.

“What was that, Jim?” Victor’s voice was a purr in his ear, hand stroking him slow but firm, and as soon as Jim regained his senses he used a hand in Victor’s hair to pull him into a heated kiss.

Soon the fabric proved too much of a hindrance, and they parted just long enough to get Jim’s boxers off before their mouths reconnected and Victor’s hand was on him again.

Frissons of pleasure shivered through Jim, drawing out low groans from deep in his chest, the sensations heightened as Victor continued to rock his hips up between Jim’s legs.

Jim cast out a hand to grab what Victor had retrieved from the drawer, pressing the tube into the other man’s free hand insistently, looking up at him when he pulled back from the kiss.

“Eager, Jim?” Victor teased, tightening his hand briefly around Jim’s erection and drawing a groan from him that was edged with a laugh. He made a show of reaching to Victor’s hand as though to take the lubrication back.

“Well, if you don’t want to--” he started, voice gravelly, and Victor was quick to pull it out of reach with a laugh.

“No no, I definitely do,” he insisted, his hand leaving Jim as he lowered himself down the bed, pressing kisses and licks to Jim’s chest and stomach as he moved down his body.

Jim watched him with hooded eyes, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view as the other man nipped and kissed his hip before lifting his head to look at Jim with a smirk.

“You know, I wanted to do this from the very first time I saw you.”

“Victo--?” His question was abruptly stifled by a groan as Victor closed his mouth over the head of cock, the hot wetness utterly distracting.

Jim’s head fell back as Victor took more of him into his mouth, hearing distantly the opening of the lube and making an effort to spread his legs wider to give Victor more room.

The pleased hum from the other man added a whole new sensation, and Jim fell back into the blankets helplessly.

The wet pressure at his entrance wasn’t unwelcome, and between the distraction of Victor’s mouth on him, he groaned out an insistent, “Yes!”

The feeling of being penetrated was something he was going to have to adjust to again, but it was good and intimate and he shuddered out a moan at the sensation.

Victor was slow enough on his erection that he was in no danger of bringing Jim to his peak, and soon enough Jim was shifting in frustration. The addition of a second, well-lubed finger only distracted him for a time, legs tensing around Victor’s shoulders, until eventually that wasn’t enough and he was aching to have Victor over him again.

“Victor-- enough,” he growled, voice gravelly, and Victor immediately complied, clearly more than ready to sate his own desire.

He moved up Jim’s body and into his arms, kissing him deeply as he freed himself from his own boxers, kicking them off to the floor.

Pressing down against Jim’s body, their erections slid together and drew shuddering groans from the both of them.

“How long has it been?” Victor rested his forehead against Jim’s a faint sheen of sweat already covering them both.

“A long while,” Jim admitted between heavy breaths, cheek pressing to Victor’s.

Victor made a contemplative noise, hot breath on Jim’s ear.

“Okay. Turn over?” He was clearly leaving the position up to Jim, but Jim nodded in agreement and Victor immediately kissed him again. Open-mouth and messy and brief, and then he was sitting back and reaching for the lube and condom as Jim moved himself quickly onto all fours.

Before he had even stopped moving, Victor was pressing hot kisses to Jim’s back. Then finally he was up behind Jim, one hand on his hip the other guiding his cock against Jim’s entrance.

“You ready?” The question was rumble, and Jim breathed out a moan, nodding.

Victor didn’t argue and began pressing into Jim with a slow but steady pressure.

The initial press was uncomfortable, and Jim let out a steadying breath, but as Victor pushed deeper and deeper, the fullness and intimacy was something wholly indescribable.

Victor came to a stop just short of being fully sheathed, and Jim could feel his breaths hot and ragged against his back.

“Okay?” The question came as composed as Victor could make it, and it was clear his was making a real effort not to sound as predatory as he had before.

Jim appreciated the effort, but couldn’t help the short laugh at the needlessness of it. Jim liked when he sounded gravelly. And the laugh made both of them gasp as Jim tightened around Victor briefly

“I’m good,” Jim assured the other man, resettling his hands on the bed and hoping Victor would take it as a sign to start moving.

Which he did, slow and sure, and Jim’s toes curled at the deep burn of the first few thrusts.

But then the thrusts came easier as his body adjusted to intrusion, and then it got good.

 _Really good_.

Before he knew it, Jim was groaning out Victor’s name with every other breath, pressing back into his thrusts to try and bring him deeper, harder, faster.

Victor’s breaths turned to soft growls, his fingers holding vice-like to Jim’s hips to pull him back again and again.

Then Victor’s thrusts became more erratic, and he groaned out a warning that he was nearly there, and Jim could only gasp back in understanding.

Jim’s release was still beyond him, and Victor seemed to realise this, so before he could finish first, Victor wrapped his arms around Jim’s chest.

“Sit back,” he commanded, voice pure gravel, and Jim complied without thinking, letting Victor pull him into his lap and tensing with a gasp as the new angle filled him even deeper than before.

“Nnng… Vict--”

Victor continued to rock his hips up against Jim at a demanding pace, pinning Jim back against his chest with one arm whilst the other hand wrapped around cock, stroking him fast and insistent.

They couldn’t stay long in the less than ideal position, but it became clear that they really didn’t have to.

Jim’s release approached him fast and hard, and it was all he could do warn Victor before he was spilling into his hand, head falling back against Victor’s shoulder with a shuddering groan.

He was distantly aware of Victor still moving in him, hands on both his hips holding him hard as Victor thrust up again and again, prolonging Jim’s pleasure until he was on the cusp of pain and then Victor abruptly stilled. The groaning growl was stifled down against Jim’s shoulder, fingertips clutching at his hips as he rode out the orgasm.

As soon as Victor was finished, Jim moved off him, the pressure of the other man inside him too much for his hypersensitive nerves, and he instead lay bonelessly chest-down on the bed and tried to catch his breath.

He felt utterly and completely exhausted, and it was _so good_.

Moments later, after some shifting and the sound of something being placed in the trashcan, Victor lay down next to Jim on his back. He was cleaning his hand with his own shirt, and after gently encouraging Jim to roll over, he gave his body the once over with the soft cotton.

As he leaned over Jim to drop the soiled clothing on the floor, Jim wrapped his arms up around him and pulled him down into a lazy kiss.

“So, how did I do?” Victor asked softly when they pulled apart, grinning wearily, and Jim breathed a laugh.

“Good enough,” he teased, and even Victor didn’t seem to have enough energy to get really affronted.

“Just good enough?”

“Really good,” Jim admitted, turning his head when Victor lay on his side next to him, “Really, _really_ good.”

After a few minutes they both mustered up the energy to get underneath the covers, and after a few seconds of confused limbs, and apologetic questions, they both settled comfortably.

Jim settled on his back, and Victor stretched out beside him, arm across his stomach.

Usually Jim found it difficult to sleep anywhere but his own bed, but with Victor they were both fast asleep within minutes.


	11. Chapter 10

Somewhere across town, Jim’s alarm clock had probably already rung itself out by the time a different beeping noise roused the detective from sleep. It was a quiet noise that steadily increased in volume until Jim finally cracked an eye open, sleep-muddled brain trying to figure out why everything felt off.

Quickly enough his senses recalibrated, just about the same time that the alarm got loud enough to wake Victor. With a heavy huff, and without opening his eyes, Victor rolled away from Jim’s side and flung out a hand to stop the offending noise, before letting that same arm fall across his eyes and stilling.

Jim regarded the other man with sleepy amusement, basking in the moment for as long as he could before finally speaking.

“Looks like I'm going to be late for work.”

Victor was still for a moment longer, before lifting his arm and turning his head to look at Jim with an amused frown.

“You’re eager.”

Jim blinked in confusion and then snorted a laugh, “I mean I don't live near and I didn’t bring any spare clothes.”

He really should have been bolting out the door to make sure he saved as much time as possible, but the prospect wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the alternative. Which involved staying right there and watching his lover roll over onto his front, incidentally pulling all the covers from his body.

“Tease.” Victor’s smirk was taunting, but still sleepy enough not to be serious. He did however happily accept the kiss Jim pressed to his mouth, fingers gently touching Jim’s cheek before the other detective pulled away to sit up.

A movement that turned out to be more strenuous than he expected, and the surprised hiss that escaped him was entirely accidental.

Which he could have dealt with with some measure of dignity had Victor not started snickering behind him, and the warm hand on his bare back did nothing to stem the flush on his cheeks.

“Why don't you borrow some of my clothes?” Victor’s voice was suddenly at Jim’s ear, hand rubbing across his shoulder sympathetically but his grin was utterly incorrigible.

Jim narrowed his eyes at him, first instinct to turn the offer down, but the way Victor pressed his mouth to his shoulder and looked up at him with amused eyes settled his indignity. He was only teasing, and it would be easier than rushing around.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Are you sure you can go to work? I mean… A night with me is enough to--”

Jim stuck a hand over Victor’s grinning mouth with a loud groan and pushed him away onto the bed before he could get any further.

\---

Breakfast was a quick affair since it turned out Victor wasn’t one for waking up any earlier than absolutely necessary, but they still ended up being later for work than normal.

By the time they arrived Jim had eased most of the stiffness out of his muscles, and was trying not to over think acting natural. Victor didn’t seem to have any issues, and as soon as they stepped through the doors he clapped Jim on the shoulder and bid him farewell entirely naturally, just like every other time they had met on the way in to work.

Jim clenched his jaw to avoid saying anything as Victor walked away, which was good considering he was sure if he opened his mouth he would have tried to say about three different ‘casual’ things at once and looked like a complete fool.

As he turned to go to his desk his eyes were drawn to Harvey, who was stood from his desk and looking directly him with an expression that could only be described as intensely suspicious.

“Morning Harvey,” Jim greeted him perfunctorily as he surmounted the stairs, very much ignoring the desire to wince with every step.

“That’s not your shirt.” Harvey told him matter of fact, voice already disapproving, and Jim let out a sigh. Couldn’t Harvey just let him enjoy this for a little while?

“Yes it is,” Jim lied, trying to sound like he knew Harvey was trying to catch him out. Unfortunately Harvey wasn’t trying.

“No way, partner, there’s no way you own a red shirt. That’s one of Zsasz’s.” Jim didn’t like the tone Harvey used when saying the other detective’s name, but he didn’t have the chance before Harvey continued.

“You stayed the night at his.”

“Harvey--”

“Can't believe you held out so long.” Harvey’s tone was suddenly completely different and Jim looked up from his bag to his partner to him grinning.

“Or was it him? Don’t tell me Zsasz is a prude? You know it’s always the talkat--”

“Harvey!” Jim’s relief was tempered by his need for Harvey to not talk quite so loud, and also the realisation that he had let Harvey continue too long to deny it.

“I--”

“Whatever, man,” Harvey cut him off and reached over to clap a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “I’m happy for you. Really.”

Jim continued to eye him suspiciously, but there didn't seem to be a catch and Jim decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Thanks Harvey.”

He could only hope Harvey would use this as a moment to stop being so hard on Victor.


	12. Chapter 11

 

It turned out that balancing their newly consummated relation with work was surprisingly easy. Both understood the stresses and requirements placed on the other, and they appreciated the time they could get together.

Which got harder and harder when Victor and Jim got tied up in different cases. With Victor's growing reputation as a more than competant detective, he was slowly allowed to take on more challenging investigations. And with more challenges meant more long nights, and more and more time sequestered away filling out the resulting paperwork as the weeks got more demanding.

“Coffee?” Jim asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on Victor's shoulder so as not to alarm the detective before setting the hot cup down on his desk, well away from any of the papers.

Victor let out a pleased groan and set his pen down as he reached for Jim's hand with the other.

“What are you still doing here?” Victor asked when Jim moved around to lean back against the desk next to where Victor was sat. It was past 1am and Jim had been in the precinct at 8am that morning with Victor.

“I had some loose ends to see to,” Jim shrugged like it was no big deal, but they both knew he had hung around to keep an eye on Victor, who had spoken about pulling a late night to finish up some much-needed paperwork for a trial.

Victor pressed an appreciative kiss to Jim's hand before letting go to reach for the much needed coffee.

“You nearly done?” Jim asked, looking down at the sheets and sheets of paper Victor had piled on his desk.

Victor sighed derisively over his caffeine, “Not even close.” It wasn't that he let the paperwork accumulate on purpose, it was just the perk of a job that expected there to be 28 hours in the day and for a detective to be in two places at once.

“What about a break?” Jim tried, leaning in to get Victor's attention, “they fixed the lock on the overnight room.”

The cots may have been about as comfortable as sleeping on the concrete floor below them, but Jim's expression said he wasn't exactly prioritising sleep.

“I--” Victor started with a smirk, before the sound of heavy footfalls running towards them broke the moment.

Both their eyes turned to a young officer weaving her way through desks towards them.

“Detective Gordon!” Jim straightened up from the desk, expression dropping to a professional frown.

“Officer Odili, what is it?”

“I'm glad you're still here sir, Ryder said you were,” she handed him a note, the details of a crime that had just been called in, “There's been another one.”

Jim let out a sigh as he read the details, “Thank you, tell them I'll be right over.”

Officer Odili nodded to them both before rushing back the way she came.

“Another murder?” Victor asked, a Jim inclined his head, screwing up the note in his hand.

Election time was upon Gotham and the Mayoral Campaigns were under attack by an unknown assailant. There had been three --now four-- murders in the last 3 weeks, and 5 vicious attacks that had left each of the victims in the hospital for the foreseeable future.

Of the 6 candidates vying for Mayor, two were now dead, and most of the other four had suffered various losses.

No more so than Oswald Cobblepot, mob-boss-gone-good whose tragic suffering at the hand of this attacker was rallying the sympathies of the voters. Two of his aids were sitting in the hospital, including his right-hand man Edward Nygma, and another of his aids was in the morgue.

But still, Jim couldn't shake the suspicion that the scheming rat was the perpetrator behind it all, and unless they could get some hard evidence in the next 3 weeks, early polls said Gotham would be rallying behind Mayor Cobblepot.

The thought made Jim's stomach twist.

“Get some rest, Victor,” Jim looked to his partner seriously, putting a hand on Victor's cheek before leaning in to press a kiss to his mouth.

“I mean it,” he added as they parted, looking into Victor's dark eyes meaningfully before standing straight and stepping away.

“Yes sir,” Victor laughed quietly, watching Jim leave, his face slowly fading from a soft smile to something more serious.


End file.
